Even though one of the Herras banged against my door till my eardrums threatened to explode, even though I had a tasteless meal dumped into my plate, and even though at present I stand under the harsh glare of the sun alongside other intakes, I don't feel bleak. A sense of purpose engulfs me.
I could control water. It is a lever I have over most of the sphinxes. But like Umber--or Sandra--said: you can't particularly fight with water. But I am sure I'll figure something out.
My eyes flit to Gillespie. They're already narrowed on me.
None of the Herras had asked to see me, which could only mean she didn't tell them I could shift. Thank God. I wasn't keen on becoming another test subject. I would thank her, but I have a suspicion I'm only in the clear because she doesn't want all the atte
